


Tell The World I'm Yours

by annejumps



Series: All Shook Up [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - High School, Falling In Love, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Eames’ mother who insisted he get a class ring. He should have a memento of his accomplishments in high school, she said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell The World I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

> The third fic in this series. This was inspired by the snippet about photobooths quoted in this reblog by [solutionforreality](http://solutionforreality.tumblr.com/post/33124439020/1953-these-two-photos-were-a-couple-of-my)! Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno).

It was Eames’ mother who insisted he get a class ring. He should have a memento of his accomplishments in high school, she said.

Those accomplishments amount to good grades and being on the football team. Things that lately seem small and unimportant to Eames, although he keeps up with them. He might feel restless and trapped at school, but he’s curious, and he loves learning. He supposes he also loves football.

But what he really loves the most is Arthur.

He goes over to Arthur’s house one Saturday afternoon, where he’s in his driveway working on his car, under it, the radio on as he whistles along. Eames crouches near Arthur’s head.

“Hi,” he says, and Arthur stops whistling, and slides out from under the car to smile at him, grease on his face and his shirt. He looks so genuinely pleased to see him that Eames feels a little lightheaded.

“Hi,” Arthur replies. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I,” Eames begins, “no, nevermind, it’s stupid. D’you want to go to the malt shop?” he says hastily, feeling himself blush at his fumble.

Arthur raises his brows, considering. “Sure,” he answers, “but I’m not done here yet. Keep me company?” Eames nods and Arthur slides back under the car, tinkering away again. To distract Arthur from wondering about what he was going to say, Eames asks him about the modifications he’s making, and from anyone else, the answers would be exceedingly boring, Eames is sure.

Once he’s finished, Arthur runs inside to change into a clean shirt and wipe off the grease. He returns clad in his leather jacket, hair combed neatly again, and Eames sighs internally at how perfect he is.

They sit in a booth in the corner at the malt shop, each of them getting a shake. Eames wishes they could get one and share, and openly moon at each other, but of course that’s out of the question. So is holding hands. Eames wonders if the boy-girl couples here truly understand how lucky they are.

He stirs his shake with the straw, listless, mired in a sudden gloom. Arthur nudges his foot, startling him.

“Hey,” Arthur says softly, smiling, “finish your shake and I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Eames can’t help smiling back, and he does, grin widening when he catches how Arthur watches his lips around the straw.

Arthur jingles change in his pocket as Eames slurps the last of the shake, and then nods to the photobooth in the corner. Eames frowns, puzzled. The photobooth is no longer a novelty and is rarely used, and is rather dusty as well.

Arthur nods at it again, and gestures for Eames to get up. He does, unsure what Arthur’s getting at, and then Arthur stands as well, starting to follow him. Oh.

“What if someone sees?” Eames mouths.

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur mouths back, raising his brows.

Arthur puts the change in the slot as Eames slips behind the curtain, taking a seat on the tiny bench, heart pounding. Arthur joins him in due time, sliding the curtain closed behind him. He feels better with Arthur beside him.

Arthur kisses his cheek, and the flash goes off.

Eames turns to him with a look of astonishment, and the flash goes off.

Arthur smiles and kisses him properly, and the flash goes off.

Eames cups Arthur’s jaw and kisses him back, and the flash goes off for the last time.

They blink at each other. It was over so quickly. They were kissing, right there in the malt shop, separated from everybody out there only by a thin curtain.

Arthur gets out, face calm and only slightly flushed, casually plucking the strip of photos from the little drawer in the side of the booth as Eames emerges, face blank as he can make it; he’s a fairly good actor when he chooses to be. He looks around surreptitiously, but no one seems to have noticed them. Eames almost feels disappointed at that.

Arthur tucks the strip in his pocket, puts some more change on the table as they pass by their booth, and leads the way out of the malt shop.

On the sidewalk, he passes the strip to Eames, who slows walking to stare at it. There they are, in black and white, preserved in perfect clarity on this tiny paper. Something in Eames hurts to see them like that, so candid but so secret.

“Which ones do you want?” he asks, mouth dry.

Arthur shrugs, surprised. “I think they look better as a set. Keep ‘em all.”

Eames nods, stares at them one more time, and puts them in his jacket pocket. There, he feels metal.

“Arthur,” he blurts out suddenly, and Arthur stops, turning to him, mildly concerned. “Nothing. Later,” he says, and Arthur shrugs, looking skeptical. Face burning, Eames resumes walking to Arthur’s car.

He can’t have Arthur take him home just yet, though. “Let’s go for a drive,” Eames suggests, hoping his nerves will calm.

“The orchard,” he adds, and Arthur furrows his brow, but that’s where they go.

Mid afternoon is not the best time for their usual activities, which always take place at night, by moonlight or by feel. And if they’re seen, it’ll be difficult to explain why they’re out in an orchard together. But Eames can’t think of a better place right now. If his mother weren’t home, he’d choose his bedroom, but that’s not an option.

Arthur parks the car in their usual spot and looks at him, questioning. They could have been caught today, and if they’re seen out here, they’ll have to find another spot. Or worse. But Arthur doesn’t seem angry, just expectant and patient.

“Um. Yes,” Eames begins, clearing his throat and reaching into his pocket. He draws out his fist, closed around a chain (one of his father’s spare dogtag chains) on which he’s put his class ring.

Eames swallows and holds out his fist, slowly opening his fingers. _Christ, what if he won’t take it, what will I do_ , he thinks, taking a deep breath.

“Here,” is all he can manage to say, stupidly. He inwardly curses himself as Arthur takes the chain, and with it the ring.

“This is your class ring,” Arthur says slowly, looking down at it.

Eames’ face feels like it’s on fire. “Yeah.”

“And you’re giving it to me.”

“Yeah. I don’t need it, do I?” But that’s bravado. If Eames’ mother sees it’s gone, he’ll be in trouble, and Arthur can probably guess that.

“You want me to wear it around my neck? Under my shirt?” Arthur’s watching his face, and Eames looks down at the ring instead, biting his lip.

“If you want to,” he says quietly.

Arthur’s quiet for a long time, and Eames, steeling himself for the worst, sets his jaw and looks up. Arthur is smiling at him, ears pink and cheeks dimpling.

“You were nervous about that? You thought I’d say no?” Arthur chuckles in disbelief. “You were honestly scared I’d say no?”

“Oh, piss off!” Eames exclaims, laughing in a rush of relief. “That was bloody difficult, I’ll have you know.”

‘I can’t believe you thought I’d tell you no!” Arthur slips the chain around his neck, tucking the ring under his shirt so it falls in the center of his chest.

He cups Eames’ jaw with both hands and kisses him firmly. “I can never say no to you.”

“That’s not something you should admit, mate,” Eames teases and Arthur just laughs again.

“Yeah, well, now you know.” Arthur looks rueful and pleased and Eames just has to kiss him again, even if they can’t be out here in this orchard much longer.

When they come up for air, Arthur starts kissing his way down Eames’ jaw to mouth at his neck, and Eames, lashes fluttering, thinks that maybe they can spend a little bit more time out here.

“I’ll wear it all the time,” Arthur says between kisses.

“What if someone notices and says something?” Eames sighs.

“Who’s gonna say anything?”

“I dunno. Someone.” Arthur nips at his skin and he shudders, almost forgetting what he was concerned about.

“I’ll come up with something.” Pulling back, Arthur looks grimly determined. “I’m wearing it.”

“All right, love.” Eames suddenly thinks of something, and takes the photograph strip from his pocket. “I’m putting this in my wallet,” he says, taking it out from his back pocket and carefully tucking the strip in.

“What if someone sees it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eames says, putting his wallet back in his pocket and reaching for Arthur to give him one more kiss before they leave, smiling against his lips in something like a secret prayer.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Elvis' [Wear My Ring Around Your Neck](http://www.lyricstime.com/elvis-presley-wear-my-ring-around-your-neck-lyrics.html). Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/), [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunder), and Liz for all your help!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Tell the World I'm Yours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756707) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




End file.
